


Warriors of Witchcraft

by CanUDigIt65, TheGrimmScribe (orphan_account)



Series: Grimm Kingdom [2]
Category: Disney Princesses, Once Upon a Time (TV), Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Character Interpretation, Alternate Universe - Once Upon a Time Fusion, Background Gothel (Disney), Biblical Allusions (Abrahamic Religions), Brothels, Christianity, Crimes & Criminals, Dark Fantasy, Dirty Dancing, Disney Cameos, Disney References, Dysfunctional Family, Family Drama, Festivals, Food, Hunters & Hunting, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Inspired by Notre-Dame de Paris | The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Interrogation, Kings & Queens, Literary References & Allusions, Lust, Madness, Magic Mirrors, Mild Sexual Content, Modern Royalty, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Multi, Narcissism, Once Upon a Time (TV) References, Prophetic Visions, References to Canon, Seduction, Sorceresses, Stripping, Taverns, Vanity, Werewolves, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:42:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 15,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23265649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanUDigIt65/pseuds/CanUDigIt65, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/TheGrimmScribe
Summary: The dystopian parable continues where the fairy tale ended as the origins of Gothel are explored in this wickedly twisted misadventure. It is said throughout the Tri-Kingdom Area that time flies, and indeed it does. The divine Queen Arianna now reigns in her husband's place as the temporarily independent monarch of Corona. Hansel and Gretel have grown up, leaving their past behind them like a trail of breadcrumbs. Gothel continues to prove that she is both an unsuitable parental figure and the worst villain in fabled history. A predatory dominatrix who is despised by her mother, she dances her way into men's hearts only to deceive them and indulges in debauchery while her mind is slowly consumed by her vanity, her corrupt desires, and her deadly obsession with Her Majesty's future child.
Relationships: Gretel (Once Upon a Time: Sisterhood) & Hansel | Jack | Nick Branson, Queen Arianna of Corona/King Frederic of Corona (Disney)
Series: Grimm Kingdom [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1657798
Kudos: 3





	1. Temptress

_"You bring down Heaven and raise up a whore!"_

* * *

The slender witch banged her tambourine against her thigh. She slowly moved her hips in time to the rhythm of the Egyptian melody that was being played by the pseudo-medieval orchestra of the brothel. In this establishment, she was not known as Mother Gothel, but as a perverted seductress who danced without shame or modesty. Whether she was the reincarnation of the Evil Queen or the living incarnation of Babylon the Great, nobody could truly decide. Most of the brothel’s occupants collectively agreed that she was a beauty queen descended from the Mistress of Harlots and Earthly Abominations. Clothed in a sheer red-and-purple gown, with lavender gloves and scarlet thigh-high boots, she wore on her head a gilded crown adorned with diamonds and pearls. Adding to the theatrical illusion that she truly was a Babylonian succubus, her alabaster skin had been painted bronze in order to properly present herself as an exotic demon who originated from the bowels of Hell itself. As she twirled around on top of the stage, she could feel the heat of the flames that arose from her desire to seduce all of the men in the audience, but she managed to restrain herself. Her cleavage acted as the main attraction. All of the male patrons were unable to look away from the witch's breasts. Despite being one-hundred-and-forty-five years old, Gothel always thought it was best to keep up appearances in order to keep on dancing through life in the form of a radiant but repugnant harlot who indulged in certain perversions of pleasure where the laws of consent were broken and virginity was forsaken.

“Tell me, my darlings, am I beautiful?” Gothel asked.

“You are beautiful,” the audience replied.

Gothel took a break from dancing to give herself a drink from her sinful chalice of vanity from which she religiously drank the poisoned wine that gave her the same sort of pleasure that a housewife experienced during fornication with her husband’s maidservant.

“Am I sensual?”

“You are remarkable.” 

“That’s right!” Gothel exclaimed, raising her cup to the ceiling. 

“That’s right!” the audience repeated, mimicking the dancer.

The hedonistic enchantress placed her cup on the floor and lifted her skirt, showing off her genitalia to the horny men in the audience. Gone were the days where she acted as the guardian of her daughter. The scorned maidservant named Cassandra would be forced to survive without her mother by her side. Gothel resented her daughter. Having temporarily abandoned her offspring, she was now free to live her own life. Her child wasn’t considered to be a person in her household. She was an obstacle that held her back from being her true self. Her true self was wickedly beautiful, but only in the eyes of her foolhardy admirers.

“Who wishes to hear me sing?” Gothel asked.

The men raised their hands, tossing their money onto the stage where their barefoot entertainer danced. 

“Sing for us, beautiful one. Seduce us with your voice.” 

“Alright, my dear revelers,” Gothel replied. “I shall make your wish into my command.” 

“What shall you sing?” one of the men asked.

“An old song from my childhood. It’s a rhyme that my mother taught me.” 

Clearing her throat, Maleficent’s daughter sang:

_Vecchia madre Hubbard_

_Sono andato all'armadio,_

_Per dare un osso al suo povero cane;_

_Ma quando è arrivata lì_

_L'armadio era nudo,_

_E così il povero cane non ne aveva._

_Andò dal fornaio_

_Per comprare gli del pane._

_Quando è tornata_

_Il cane era morto._

When she finished her song, the audience applauded. 

“Guess what, big boys? The show isn’t over yet.”

Gothel playfully smirked at her audience. She stripped down, unveiling her naked form for the party to gaze upon. Half of the male patrons were immediately aroused. Gothel recoiled from the sight of their erections. As an ungodly woman of her morally questionable occupation, she believed manhood was a prize to be reaped and exploited, rather than a reproductive tool of consensual pleasure. The masculine world was the culprit responsible for tainting her soul. She despised men, viewing them as disposable, manipulative, and altogether loathsome creatures whose minds were corrupted by their testosterone-fueled desires. After all, it was a man whom she seduced and whose stolen virginity brought about the conception of her daughter. 

“Disgusting swine,” Gothel whispered to herself, glancing at the men in the audience. “They should know better than to gaze upon an unholy succubus who’s powerful enough to destroy their foul breed. Do they not know that I am the priestess of the almighty Zhan Tiri? We are greater than them, and yet they respect us. Perhaps it’s better to be respected than feared?” 

_“You are right, my darling Belladonna,"_ Zhan Tiri answered from inside Gothel’s head.

“If my own mother expects me to be an absolute disgrace, then that’s what I’ll be. I fear no man nor bow down to any King that there is or was. The commoners shall not bring me down.” 

_“We are unlimited.”_

“But am I truly a dominatrix?” Gothel wondered.

_“That depends on who deserves to be dominated.”_

“Like the sacred child who is yet to be born?”

_“If that’s what you wish, it shall come true.”_

The visions of Her Majesty’s unborn child flashed through Gothel’s mind once more. Her fantasies about the baby princess caused her nipples to be erect and her ovaries to explode. The audience thought that her orgasm was part of the performance. 

“Shall the fruit of the womb be mine for my taking?” Gothel asked.

_“Only if the King is destroyed and his soul burns in the fires of Hell,”_ Zhan Tiri replied. 

“Yes!” Gothel cackled, clapping her hands.

The audience clapped along with Gothel. The clapping turned into cheering. The cheering turned into drinking and merry-making as Maleficent’s daughter stepped down from the stage. She sat on a bench near the exit to the brothel, opening her legs in a flirtatious fashion that made the men swoon and the women glare at her in disgust. 

“Would anyone care to hear a story?” Gothel asked.

“I love stories,” the bartender replied.

“Then shut your mouths and listen to your mistress.”

Every man and woman obeyed Gothel’s orders. They sat down at their tables, focusing their attention on the witch. 

“Once upon a time, there was a wicked stepmother named Regina, otherwise known as the Evil Queen. The Evil Queen had a white-skinned princess of a stepdaughter with lips as red as blood and ebony hair. Her name was Snow White. The stepmother hated Snow White because of how beautifully naive she was. She forced the child to work as her scullery maid in an attempt to hide her beauty from the outside world.” 

“Did it work?” the bartender asked.

“No, it didn’t, because Snow White’s beauty proved to be her stepmother’s downfall,” Gothel replied. “You see, the Evil Queen consulted her Magic Mirror to make sure that she was the fairest in the land. One day, she was horrified to discover that her stepdaughter had stolen her spotlight, so she summoned her loyal Huntsman and ordered him to banish her to the woods so he could kill her. He was told to bring back the little girl’s heart, lungs, and liver back as a token. The Huntsman, not wishing to anger his mistress, did as he was commanded to do. However, Snow White managed to escape, and found the cottage of the Seven Dwarfs.” 

“What happened to the Huntsman?” one of the audience members wondered.

“As for the Huntsman, he killed a wild boar, and removed its heart, lungs, and liver. He brought the organs back to the castle of the Queen, where his mistress had them salted and cooked, and she thought that she had eaten the remains of her pitiful stepdaughter. Of course, once she found out that she had been tricked, she banished the Huntsman from her kingdom as punishment for deceiving her. If you ask me, I say that he deserved what was coming to him. Men are wolves who mock the sheep they feed upon. Sure, they may look handsome, but they are truthfully cunning and conniving. They are the most dangerous monsters to ever exist in the Tri-Kingdom Area.”

Coincidentally, as Gothel said this, the Huntsman himself walked into the brothel. He was accompanied by the Stabbington Brothers. The Brothers were an identical pair of ginger-haired werewolves who lived in the southwestern woods of the kingdom. Not wishing to be caught by these men and arrested, Gothel whirled around and vanished from the room, transporting herself to the basement of her cottage. Such a disappearing act would surely have been classified as a form of witchcraft by the clergy. 

“That was a close call,” Gothel sighed, sitting down in front of her Magic Mirror. 

The mirror reflected Gothel’s true form. Instead of a dancing seductress, she saw a haggard, cadaverous crone with black ringlets and gaudy makeup that appeared to be falsely glamorous. Her lips pulled back into a smile full of fanged teeth that were stained and yellowed. 

_“Do you know what I see in that mirror?”_ Zhan Tiri asked.

“What do you see?” Gothel replied.

_“I see a strong, confident, and beautiful young lady.”_

Gothel’s darkened heart became aflame with satisfaction at her companion’s compliment. She was proud of the monster she had grown to become in the past one-hundred-and-twenty-eight years of her criminal life. She no longer cared about the fact that her mother had disowned her. She had a family of her own. A family known as the Nightshade Sisters.

_“Your sisters are the only family you’ll ever need,”_ Zhan Tiri whispered to her mistress. 

Gothel smiled at her reflection. 

“Indeed, they are. They are my home.” 

_“But what about the child?”_

“The child?” Gothel repeated.

_“Yes, my dear priestess, the sacred child,”_ Zhan Tiri replied. 

“She is my deadliest sin.”

_“Do you see her?”_

The image of Her Majesty’s future child appeared in the arms of the witch’s reflection. It would be five years until the Princess of Pampers was officially born. Then, after the Queen’s daughter was brought into the world, Gothel would claim the child as her own and do whatever she wished to her.

“I see her. The innocence lurking behind her emerald eyes still haunts me.”

_“What must be done with her?”_

“After she’s born, her father shall meet his fate, and then his daughter shall be mine. The Princess of Pampers will be my prize to obtain.” 

_“But what if somebody tries to stop you? His Majesty has guards everywhere in his palace.”_

“Nobody’s going to stop me. Like I always say, Mother knows best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source: [Thirsty Huntsman](https://onceuponatime.fandom.com/wiki/Taverns/Gallery?file=107DrinkServed.png)
> 
> **Originally, the first chapter of this installment was meant to be centered around Queen Arianna and a festival called the Feast of Beggars, but I've decided to use that for later on in the story. I settled on returning to Gothel instead because I wanted to further explore her character and her life as the worst witch in the Tri-Kingdom Area.**


	2. Lambs and Wolves

_"I, sir, am innocent to a witch. I know not what a witch is."_

* * *

Hansel’s sister hummed a merry tune as she walked through the western region of the Dark Forest, sucking on a cherry lollipop while looking for berries to pick and gather into her picnic basket. It felt like yesterday that she and her brother were adopted by the Blind Witch after being abandoned by their parents in the northern woods. In reality, it was actually four years ago, but Gretel never managed to keep track of time. She preferred living in the moment. No longer a sixteen-year-old-girl, she was now a twenty-year-old sorceress who had mastered the art of pyrokinetic magic in order to get her revenge on the Witch Hunters who ravaged her homeland in search of victims to hang or burn. 

“Gretel? Is that you?”

The Blind Witch’s apprentice turned around. Gothel’s eleven-year-old daughter smiled at her, offering a handful of raisins to her. 

“Hello, Cassandra,” Gretel replied. 

“Good afternoon, Gretel,” Cassandra giggled.

Gretel took the raisins and ate them after giving thanks to the edible gift that her friend had given to her. 

"Did you like them?" Cassandra asked.

"I loved them," Gretel said. 

"Do you notice anything different about me?" Cassandra wondered.

“I see that you’ve grown up so much! When we first met, you were just a little baby.” 

“Now I’m older and wiser,” Maleficent’s granddaughter said.

“Where is your mother?” Gretel wondered.

“My mother is busy with errands, as she always is. She never has time to care for me anymore. It’s like I’m a burden to her.” 

“I’m sorry that you feel like that,” Gretel.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault,” Cassandra sniffled. “It’s mine.” 

Gretel picked up Cassandra and sat down on a bench with her, using the apron of her dirndl to wipe the tears from her friend’s eyes.

“No, Cassandra, it’s not your fault. Nobody deserves to be alone. Trust me, I know what it feels to be abandoned by somebody who doesn’t give a damn about you. I’ve been down that yellow brick road myself.” 

“You have?” Cassandra asked.

“Do you remember when Hansel and I met you in your mother’s enchanted garden?” Gretel asked.

“Yes, I remember,” Cassandra recalled. “You ate your fill of fruits and vegetables before deciding to spend the night. I acted as your guardian angel.” 

“Allow me to be your guardian angel in return,” Gretel offered.

“But you already have a younger sibling whom you love and protect. I’m an only child,” Cassandra argued.

“Family doesn’t have to be related by blood. Who says that friends can’t be siblings as well? I can be the older sister that you’ve never had but always dreamed of.” 

“Do you promise to visit me?” Cassandra asked.

“If I have time,” Gretel promised. 

Kissing Cassandra on the forehead, Gretel hugged her friend and patted her on the head. She waved goodbye to Gothel’s daughter before resuming her stroll through the woods, stopping to pick berries from the nearby bushes in the garden as she walked back to the cottage of her surrogate grandmother. On her way through the forest, she encountered the Huntsman and the Stabbington Brothers. The three hunters had returned from their breakfast at the brothel where Gothel had performed. 

“Good day to you, Gretel,” the Huntsman said.

“How do you know my name?” Gretel demanded.

“Ron and John told me about you. They are the enemies of your guardian, the Wicked Witch of the Northern Woods.” 

“Who are Ron and John?” Gretel asked.

The Stabbington Brothers pointed to each other. Ron wore an eyepatch and had a scar underneath his left eye. John had sideburns, along with a crudely stitched-up scar that was visible on the right side of his face. Both brothers were dressed in black sleeveless shirts and leather armor. Unbeknownst to Gretel, the twins were werewolves who gained pleasure from the hunting of animals and maidens. The maidens were their conquests. The animals were their trophies which they used to adorn the interior of their cottage with.

“Hello, little girl,” John snarled

Hansel’s sister stepped away from the brothers.

“Is she a witch?” Ron asked. 

“She might be,” the Huntsman remarked. 

“I’m not a witch,” Gretel lied. 

“Why should we believe you?” Ron snapped.

“This girl could easily be a midnight hag in disguise,” John argued.

“She looks delicious.”

“She’s got plenty of meat on her bones.”

“We should eat her.” 

John grabbed Gretel by her blonde pigtails and sniffed her hair. The Huntsman watched in amusement as Hansel’s sister struggled to break free from the brute’s grasp. 

“You seriously think this is funny?” Gretel snapped.

“It’s as funny as a joke,” the Huntsman remarked.

Gretel kicked John in the testicles, pushing past the twin brothers. The three Huntsmen watched the pretty sorceress as she ran along the northern road paved with bricks of golden yellow, disappointed at their runaway prey but mesmerized by her beauty. As for Gretel, she found her way to the cottage of her surrogate grandmother. She knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” 

“It’s Gretel,” Hansel’s sister replied. “I have arrived with berries for your supper.”

“Unlock the door and come in.”

Gretel unlocked the door and walked into the kitchen, closing and locking the entrance with a snap of her fingers. The Blind Witch was seated at the table, drinking cranberry wine and snacking on bonbons. 

“Good afternoon, Grandmother,” Gretel said.

“Hello, dearie,” the Blind Witch said.

The baker’s surrogate granddaughter sat down beside her. She stared down at her lap, unbraiding her hair as she smiled faintly at the old woman.

“Is something troubling you?” the Blind Witch asked.

“Why do you ask?” Gretel replied. 

“You unbraid your hair when you’re nervous or excited.”

“This afternoon, I encountered a trio of Huntsmen on my way to your cottage. One of them harassed me by sniffing my hair.”

“Was it Graham Dornan Humbert?” the Blind Witch asked. 

“Who’s that?” 

“He was the Huntsman who spared Snow White.”

“No, it wasn’t Graham. The hunter who harassed me was John Stabbington,” Gretel replied.

“The Stabbington Brothers? I thought they were imprisoned?”

“Actually, they have an infamous reputation for breaking out of jail,” Gretel argued. “They also have a history of sexual depravity and harming the ecosystem. I read about them in the newspaper.” 

“Speaking of news, do you know what tomorrow is?” the Blind Witch replied. 

“The thirteenth Friday of the month?” Gretel replied.

“No, my dear child, tomorrow is the thirteenth annual Feast of Beggars. It’s a festival where all of the strumpets, thieves, drunkards, and other black sheep of Puritanical society parade through the streets and beg at the houses of the upper class in exchange for their daily bread, ham, and cheese. After they’ve received their edible gifts, they head to the Snuggly Duckling to dine with the King’s wife and her men. Peasants are considered sinners in the eyes of the Lord’s children, and sinners are rarely treated with kindness or respect.” 

“That’s not fair at all. Why should the peasantry be ignored while the wealthy and privileged members of the elite forces attend to their sacred duties? Is there no charity towards the poor?” Gretel replied. 

“Her Majesty is quite charitable towards the commoners,” the Blind Witch assured her surrogate granddaughter. “Tomorrow, Queen Arianna and her guards will be hosting the festival. You may visit them if you wish to do so.” 

“Why aren’t you coming?” Gretel asked.

“Because I’m a baker who leads a busy and bloody business of a life. I have too much work that needs to be done. However, I will be making cupcakes and meat pies for the festival, and you shall act as my delivery girl.”

“Do you wish for me to wear my hooded cloak?” Gretel asked.

“Your cloak will do nicely,” the Blind Witch replied to her surrogate granddaughter. “I’ve always thought you looked cute in red.” 

“I appreciate the compliment. However, you do realize that Witch Hunters will be attending the Feast of Beggars? We all know what the Lord’s children do to witches. I will be a cloaked lamb among the wolves and vultures of society. If those bastards recognize me for what I am, I will surely be arrested and burned at the stake.” 

“Arrested and burned at the stake? But I thought that witch-hunting was outlawed in this day and age?” the Blind Witch argued.

“Sorry, Miss Braeburn, but the Witch Hunters beg to differ. This kingdom may have changed for the better, but society has changed for the worst, and Hansel would be distraught if he found out that his big sister was wrongfully murdered at the hands of God’s madmen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source: [Gretel](https://onceuponatime.fandom.com/wiki/Gretel_\(Sisterhood\)/Gallery?file=715GretelGlances.png)


	3. Confrontation

_"I never thought of myself as mean. I always thought that I'd be the Queen, and there's no in-between, because if I can't have that, then I will be leader of the dark and the bad. Now there's a devil on my shoulder where the angels used to be, and he's calling me the Queen of Mean."_

* * *

“Will I be as fair as you are, Mommy?” Cassandra asked her mother, wiping the bronzer from the old woman’s skin. 

“Cassandra, don’t be foolish,” Gothel yawned. 

“Why can’t I be foolish?”

“Because you’re hardly attractive.”

“Hardly attractive? But I thought you said I was a pretty child?” 

“Sweetie, you take everything so seriously. We both know that nobody in this kingdom can be as breathtaking as I am, not even you. You’re an ugly duckling compared to your bewitching seductress of a mother. If you had my looks, you would have already gotten a boyfriend by now.” 

“Why are you so obsessed with me getting a boyfriend?”

“Because I want somebody to get into bed with and hopefully produce another maidservant.” 

Cassandra sighed as she was forced to undress her mother. She removed Gothel’s tiara and placed it on the table beside the Magic Mirror. Gothel simply glared at her daughter. No matter what she did, she wasn’t good enough. Every task she fulfilled according to her mother’s orders was constantly criticized in the guise of maternal feedback. Gothel’s daughter wasn’t a person in her mother’s mind. She was a burden and an advantage. The witch stood up from the table, staring down at her sagging breasts. Though they had grown larger and firmer due to implants, they still resembled the bosom of a hag rather than a maiden.

“Will I have big boobs like you when I grow up?” Cassandra wondered.

“I doubt you will,” Gothel chortled. 

Cassandra’s curiosity was shattered by her mother’s answer. 

“Does that mean I won’t be pretty?” 

“You’re as pretty as a fungus.” 

“Why am I a fungus?” Cassandra demanded.

“Because you feed on my hopes and dreams. Now get out of my sight! I don’t want to see you again until tomorrow.”

“Yes, Mommy.” 

Cassandra retreated upstairs. Gothel stared at her reflection in her mirror. Her reflection blinked, smiling creepily and twiddling her fingers in a childish manner that annoyed her other half immensely.

_“Cassandra’s such a curious child, isn’t she?”_ Zhan Tiri asked.

“Yes, but she’s maddeningly obnoxious,” Gothel admitted. 

_“Is that why she’s a burden to you?”_

“Difficult children are a pestilence, but little girls are easier to handle than boys.” 

“Little girls are easier than boys? Is that why you fantasize about a seven-month-old princess?”

Gothel turned around and nearly screamed. Maleficent sat on her daughter's ebony throne, drinking iced tea from her teacup as she smiled at her disgraced daughter. 

“Why are you here? I didn’t invite you into my basement,” Gothel hissed.

“Is that any way to greet your mother?” Maleficent replied.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting you to knock on my door and give me a bouquet of roses.” 

“I simply came here to check on you.” 

“Sorry, but I’m not your nasty little girl anymore,” Gothel sneered. 

“You’re correct. You’re not a child anymore. You’re an absolute disgrace. When I was your age, I was cursing entire kingdoms and striking fear into the hearts of my enemies. I’m the Mistress of Evil. You’re a petty rapist and a narcissistic bitch who knows nothing about motherhood.” 

“That’s what we have in common,” Gothel pointed out. 

“Are you accusing me of being a rapist?” Maleficent asked.

“I’m accusing you of being a terrible mother. You’re the woman who abandoned me on my thirteenth birthday. How am I supposed to forget about such an unfortunate event when it’s forever ingrained in my memory?”

“Belladonna, we’ve already discussed this. I abandoned you because I had visions of your adult life and the monster you’ve grown to become. Do you seriously think I don’t know your heart’s desires? Witches like you are monstrous creatures without hearts or souls. The officers of the law should lock you up and throw away the key. Do I have to spell it out for you? You’re a pedophile.” 

“Shut up!” Gothel screeched. 

“Why should I? I speak the truth,” Maleficent retorted.

“You speak lies. I am not a pedophile! There’s no such thing. Everybody knows that pedophiles and rapists are predominantly male. I am simply an old soul whose alternative sexuality involves the gratification of her unconventional appetites and desires. Who cares if I’m attracted to pampered princesses? It’s nobody’s business except my own.”

“If you’re a degenerate dominatrix who’s into little girls, then it’s my business.” 

“Why can’t you stay out of my personal life? You’re always stalking me or visiting me to give me an unwanted lecture,” Gothel complained.”

“The perverted shall not go unpunished,” Maleficent replied. 

“I am not perverted.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Maleficent and Gothel growled at each other, baring their teeth as they thought of tearing each other apart with their claws and biting into one another’s faces in a brawl to see who was more powerful than the other. The Dark Queen of Fairies raised her hand to strike her daughter, but Gothel grabbed her mother’s wrist, staring into her soul with eyes of hellfire. 

“Stop fighting me!” Maleficent roared.

“No, I won’t stop. For the rest of my life, every time we confront each other, I will never stop fighting you. I have done the worst I can to prove myself to you as a true villain. I am nasty, brutal, cruel, and heartless. Why do you hate your own daughter so much?” 

“A daughter who breaks the laws of consent is no child of mine,” the Dark Queen of Fairies replied. 

Without bothering to face the truth of her actions, Gothel gave her mother the middle finger. Maleficent chuckled and smiled. 

“What a rebellious little bitch we’ve got here. Your maternal routine doesn’t fool me, Belladonna. Why do you exactly refer to yourself as Mother? You certainly don’t deserve to be known as Mommy, and you couldn’t care less about properly raising a child.” 

“In this world, there are various types of mothers,” Gothel declared. “Some tend to their children’s needs. Others prefer living a life free from caring for their ungodly spawn. I am the leader of an all-female coven known as the Nightshade Sisters. They are my children. I am their guardian and their mentor.” 

“I see what you mean,” Maleficent replied.

“I’m glad that you understand what I’ve chosen to become.”

"A monster?" 

"Precisely." 

Gothel’s reply served as inspiration for a question that formed in Maleficent’s head and sprouted from her lips like a beanstalk grown from watered soil. 

“By the way, how is Cassandra?” 

The flames of rage ignited within Gothel’s eyes. Screeching madly, with all the fury of an emotionally unstable demon, she glided towards her mother and grabbed onto her throat, pinning her against the wall. The teacup fell to the floor and shattered, spilling tea onto Gothel’s feet and staining her gown. Maleficent simply cackled. She couldn’t be killed. She was immortal. However, immortality didn’t mean that she wasn’t able to feel the pain that resulted from being the victim of attempted strangulation. 

“Don’t you dare say my daughter’s name!” Gothel shouted. 

“Why not? She isn’t some prized doll you keep on a shelf. She’s a person.”

“She is my little girl.” 

“That doesn’t make her your property.”

“She belongs to me and me alone.”

“Your little girl happens to be my granddaughter,” Maleficent recalled.

“Don’t forget that she’s also my maidservant.” 

“Enslaving a child isn’t the same as caring for them. Obedience and submission doesn’t equal love.”

Gothel placed her hands over her ears in hope that her mother would shut up and cease with lecturing her on how to live her life. Cassandra may have been a fungus in her mind, but Maleficent was her demon. She couldn’t shut the image of the winged matriarch or her words out of her head. 

“Which mother knows best?” Maleficent asked. “You or me?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Gretel replied. 

“It should be. Am I not the caregiver that Cassandra deserves to have?”

“No, you’re not,” Gothel snarled. “Do you even know me at all? You are speaking to the priestess of Zhan Tiri. Your daughter is the Mother of the Nightshade Sisters, the Lady Tremaine of witches, and the Mistress of the Western Woods. She’s the mother that men fear and children respect. You don’t even exist to her!” 

The daggers forged from Gothel’s words cut into Maleficent’s heart and made her bleed internally. Without another reply or remark, she clicked her heels three times in a row before she swiftly vanished in front of her daughter’s eyes. Gothel sighed as she sat down in front of her Magic Mirror. Ever since she was disowned by her mother on the evening of her thirteenth birthday, she struggled to survive while distancing herself from the Puritanical society that dominated the kingdom. 

“Who is the fairest in the land?”

Gothel knew the answer to this fabled question. She had always viewed herself as the truest beauty queen. Maleficent’s daughter knew that the day would come when the King’s wife’s child would be born, and she would grow into a young woman who would be destined to be prettier than the witch whom she would believe to be her own mother. The witch knew that the child would be her downfall. She pondered how the Princess of Pampers could possibly defeat her. Prophecies, unlike curses and spells, could not be undone, but they could be avoided under the correct circumstances. Gothel had cheated death countless times. In five years, she would do such a thing again, no matter who got hurt or killed in the process. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source: [Gothel's Mother](https://onceuponatime.fandom.com/wiki/Maleficent/Gallery?file=414WhyInThe.png)


	4. Her Majesty's Prisoner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Friendly reminder that Gothel and King Frederic are equally shitty in this universe. One is a predatory witch with inappropriate desires, while the other is a bigoted idiot in a position of power who abuses his privilege but views himself as the hero despite being a dumbass villain. Sound familiar?**

_"You've chosen a magnificent prison, but it is a prison nonetheless. Set one foot outside, and you're mine."_

* * *

Gothel scurried through the corridors, screaming in the faces of maids and guards who suffered from the misfortune of crossing paths with her. Dressed in her black-and-purple-gown, she did her best to remain beautiful despite being clearly unstable. Worn around her waist was a leather corset that was buckled instead of laced. Yellow roses and sunflowers adorned her unkempt hair, and her chapped lips were painted black. Her blackened claws clutched onto her skirt, the pace of her footsteps increasing in the midst of her mad chase. She approached a guard who stood beside the entrance to the throne room. The guard crossed himself as the witch smiled at him. 

"Begone, harlot!" the King's servant cried out. 

“Where is Her Majesty of Corona?” Maleficent’s daughter demanded.

"Why do you wish to know?" the guard asked.

"Don't sass me! Tell me, or I shall tear your tongue straight out of your mouth."

“In her usual domain,” the guard replied.

Growling like a rabid dog, the daughter of Maleficent stormed through the doorway and into the throne room where Her Majesty awaited her. Queen Arianna’s eyes widened in bewildered alarm as the witch crawled toward her on all fours and climbed into her lap like a feral child. The old woman’s sickly sweet smile did nothing but further add to the discomfort that the King’s wife was feeling at the moment. 

“What brings you to my palace?” the Queen asked.

“I wish to seek your husband,” Gothel replied. 

“Why do you wish to see His Majesty?” 

“That’s my business,” Gothel snapped.

“Why do you refuse to tell me the nature of your request?"

"Because I said so."

"That's exactly what my husband used to say," the King's wife sighed.

“Where is he?”

“My husband is imprisoned in the bowels of the palace. He has been forcefully abdicated from his throne since I’m reigning in his place.”

“Why was he imprisoned? What was his crime?” Gothel demanded.

“My husband was imprisoned for the crime of idiotic bigotry.”

“All men are idiotic and bigoted,” Gothel whispered to herself. 

“If you wish to see him, then you shall be put in chains yourself and share the same room with him. I’m sure you would get along famously.”

“Like Hell I would,” Gothel snapped. 

The Captain of the Guard stepped out from behind the throne and grabbed Maleficent’s daughter. He fastened a pair of handcuffs around her wrists, blowing a kiss to Her Majesty as he escorted his latest prisoner to the dungeon. Gothel snarled, glancing down at her feet while she descended into the basement of the palace. The Captain led Gothel to the King’s cell and threw her into the room, locking the door to prevent her from escaping. Gothel saw King Frederic seated on a bench in the background of the room. His Majesty was cheerfully sipping green tea and enjoying a plate of donut cheeseburgers, quietly listening to the classical symphony that played inside his head.

“Good afternoon, Your Majesty.”

His Majesty’s mental soundtrack paused. The Queen’s husband’s smile faded into a grimace as his nemesis approached him. Gothel couldn’t help smirking at the wretched fate that had befallen such a problematic spouse. 

“Look what the Devil dragged in,” the King remarked.

“How ironic that a man responsible for the oppression of my people dares to compare me to Satan himself,” Gothel laughed. 

“The Devil’s servants wear many masks. Your people are demons in the form of women.” 

“On the contrary, I am not the Devil’s spawn. He did not create me.”

“But you are a demon,” the Queen’s husband argued. 

“You are mistaken, for I do not have horns nor dragon’s wings. I am a witch birthed from the womb of the darkest Fairy Queen in existence. Surely you recognize me?” 

“A beautiful face such as yours shouldn’t hide such a darkened heart,” King Frederic replied. 

“Beauty is my specialty.”

“And yet, like most Satanic concubines, you use your beauty as a weapon against men,” the King pointed out.

“Why do you hate my people so much? What in God’s name did we ever do to be condemned and imprisoned by His holy men?” 

“Your people have done nothing but bring the Christian world to its knees through the conjuration of chaos, revenge, and suffering, brewing the darkest arts in your cauldron while masquerading as saintly women, but I know your true nature. You are whores. You are bitches. You are the foulest breed to ever walk among common men. If you truly view your community as worthy of sympathy, then renounce your wicked wiles and pledge obedience to God so that your souls may be saved from the hellfire of damnation.”

“Why do you think that I should pray to a God who doesn’t even exist to me?” Gothel snapped. 

“Many witches have been converted to the Puritan faith and cleansed of their sinful behavior,” the King replied. 

“Were they converted or were they simply victims of the clergy who had been forced to forsake their identities in order to conform?”

“Does it really matter? Besides, those who disobey God’s men end up being fatally punished by His hand. The heavenly Father doesn’t take kindly to succubi who partake in the art of Voodoo, sorcery, witchcraft, or other forms of black magic.”

“I’m not a succubus! I’m the daughter of an evil fairy. At least, she was evil, until her heart was tainted by the power of true love.” 

“The love of Jesus helps His children to see the errors of their mistakes,” King Frederic proclaimed. 

“I’m pretty sure that the Son of God had nothing to do with my mother’s redemption, but that’s alright, Your Majesty. You’re entitled to your wrong opinion.” 

“Did you come here so you could just talk me to death?” the Queen’s husband assumed. 

“Your timely demise has always been on my mind, but no. I do not wish to kill you.” 

“Have you come to claim my soul?”

“I simply came here to chat with you.” 

Breaking free from her handcuffs, Maleficent’s daughter crawled into the King’s lap. The witch wrapped her arms around the monarch’s head and leaned inward. She kissed his lips, shushing him to avoid having the guards called on her for assaulting Queen Arianna’s spouse. 

“How shall differentiate a man like you from another?” Gothel whispered.

“I do not know,” the King replied. 

“By his cockle hat, his staff, and his sandal shoon.” 

King Frederic’s eyes widened as he felt Gothel grinding on top of him. He attempted to resist, but he quickly developed an erection, much to his displeasure. 

“Do you know what men are to me?” Gothel asked. 

The King refused to answer. 

“Well, since you’ve gone speechless, I’ll tell you. Men are nothing more than demons in the guise of humans. Their appetites prove to be the demise of their lady’s virginity. By cock, they are to blame."

“What sort of sexually perverted demon is this? She who bewitches me with her charms but speaks in tongues and works her craft against me?” the Queen’s husband wondered. 

“A demon, am I? Sorry, but the only demon that I see is you. I am descended from one of the most iconic villains in fabled history. Your people have been responsible for the blasphemously inexcusable genocide of witches, wizards, and other magical creatures out of fear and spite, so I strongly suggest that you think about practicing what you preach before opening your mouth without a second thought. Now shut up, close your eyes, and enjoy the ride. I know I am. Part of me believes that you deserve to die, for you are a Christian, and that simply can’t be excused. Christians are a social disease. They are a community of two-faced terrorists who wish to destroy what threatens them. It's a witch's job to cleanse their souls or die trying."

King Frederic grabbed the witch by her hair and threw her backward onto the floor. Gothel sat up on her knees, staring at the enraged monarch. 

“Curses on your head and death upon your soul, foul Whore of Babylon!” the King shouted. 

“What causes you to hurl such insults at me?” Gothel asked.

“I would rather die than have my soul cleansed by a succubus who has forced herself upon me.” 

Gothel stood up, laughing through her demented smile as she stared at her enemy. 

“Have it your way, Your Majesty. One way or another, I will take your life, along with your daughter.” 

“A daughter? I don’t have a daughter,” the Queen’s husband stammered. 

“Not yet, but you will, and she will be mine. I shall be the Mommy she always dreamed about.”

“Her Mommy? And what are you planning on doing with her?” 

“My plans for the child are my own. They have nothing to do with you. In five years, I will come for your precious Princess of Pampers, and your sacred baby shall be my secret sin. Her soft, squishy body will be my comfort during bedtime. Her youth will be my personal aphrodisiac.” 

“What you speak of is ungodly and forbidden,” King Frederic said. 

“Excuse me, Your Majesty, but I will be the judge of what’s ungodly and forbidden. As for you, it’s your corpse who will end up being burned upon the pyre, not mine.” 

“It’s the Kings who burn the witches, not the other way around.”

“In your world, perhaps, but not mine,” Gothel replied. 

“What do you mean?” the Queen’s husband asked.

“Don’t play dumb with me. We both know that I’m not the villain in this story.” 

“If you are not a villain nor a demon, then what might you be?” the King asked.

Turning away from His Majesty, Gothel walked toward the doorway of the dungeon and looked upward at the stairs that ascended into the throne room where the Queen sat on her husband’s throne. The witch turned around to flash a goodbye smile at the King, wiggling her fingers while giggling menacingly. 

“I am many things. A disowned daughter. A disgraced mother. A victim of Puritanical society."

"You are a witch, and you shall be burned as such," King Frederic replied.

Gothel ignored the King's reply.

"Above all, I am the dominatrix who exists in the corners of your mind. I am the succubus with lustful habits and insatiable desires. Your worst dream. Your best nightmare.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source: [His Majesty's Enemy](https://onceuponatime.fandom.com/wiki/Gothel/Gallery?file=709SpeaksTooMuch.png)


	5. Feast of Fools and Beggars

_ "I'll be satisfied with anything. Bread and cheese will be good enough for me." _

* * *

The bells of the Church of Corona sounded thirteen times, for today was the thirteenth annual Feast of Beggars. The festival was ignored by the members of the clergy under the completely and ridiculously false impression that it was the Devil’s invention. The Lord’s children would do anything out of self-preservation to avoid being associated with anybody who was considered to be beneath them. While the lambs and sheep of the Good Shepherd remained indoors to attend to their sacred duties, the black sheep of society paraded through the streets, knocking on the doors of public houses and brothels to proudly beg in anticipation of receiving their bread, ham, cheese, and other free meals that were handed out to the peasantry by the hands of charitable villagers who identified as atheistic. Those who were members of the atheist community were looked down upon by the clergy, but embraced by the lower class for their kindness and generosity in the midst of dark times. There were few people in the kingdom who recognized the impoverished as members of their society. Those without pity or remorse towards the commoners were seen by the atheists of Her Majesty’s homeland as an inhuman, apathetic, and altogether merciless band of mortal demons whose souls were destined to burn in Hell, since they cared more about themselves than the shortcomings of their pitiful neighbors. 

The peasants of the kingdom had many hideouts and hangouts they visited to take refuge from their enemies of the upper crust. One of their favorite establishments was a renowned tavern known as the Snuggly Duckling. The ultimate retreat for ruffians and thugs, the Snuggly Duckling was a crossover between a brothel, a pub, and an inn. Royalty and nobility rarely visited such a place when wishing to drink and dine with their comrades, but those with enough money in their pockets and dreams in their hearts took the time to enjoy themselves at the tavern for brunch, dinner, and a burlesque show.

Within the banquet hall of the Snuggly Duckling, Queen Arianna was serving grilled pepperoni-and-cheese sandwiches to the famished commoners who sat at their tables. Among the attendees of the feast were Cinderella, Belle, and Snow White, who were visiting Corona to take part in the festivities within the village. The three princesses sat at a table together, drinking mead from their silver mugs and exchanging stories with each other.

“Thanks for the mead,” Cinderella said. 

“You’re welcome,” Queen Arianna replied. 

The King’s wife walked away from Cinderella’s royal table, attending to the other patrons of the tavern. Belle thought it was charitable for Her Majesty to take on the role of a temporary barmaid. She had always known Queen Arianna to have a loving heart. Unlike her husband, the Queen of Corona was open-minded and rarely judgemental, allowing her to unmask monsters and discover the beauty of the beasts who were shunned by the members of purebred society.

“Have you heard the news about Gothel?” Belle asked Snow White as they sat together, drinking mead from their silver mugs. 

“Who’s Gothel?” Snow White replied.

“Gothel is the daughter of Maleficent.” 

“Maleficent has a daughter?” Cinderella asked. 

“I know, it sounds weird, but it’s true.”

“What is her occupation?” Snow White asked.

“Gothel makes a living as a seductress who couldn't care less about the laws of consent. Some say she’s the worst witch to ever exist in the Tri-Kingdom Area.”

“If she’s the worst witch, then she must be monstrous,” Snow White replied.

“Want to know what’s ironic? The Mistress of Evil hates her offspring.” 

“Why does the Dark Queen of Fairies hate her child?” Belle wondered. 

“Because her daughter is a vain, selfish, and murderous harridan whose mind is troubled.”

“Troubled? How so?” Cinderella gasped.

“There are demons living inside of her diseased brain.”

“Literal demons?” 

“No, sweetie, I’m just saying that she’s batshit crazy.” 

“Good God, that’s horrible. Should we pray for her soul?”

“We could, but I don’t think she has one.”

“A witch without her heart and soul is a miserable creature,” Belle commented.

“That doesn’t mean that she can’t be saved,” Snow White argued. 

“Why do you think such things?” Cinderella asked.

“Haven’t you two ever read the Bible? Even the worst sinners can be redeemed through God’s love.” 

“Snow, listen to me. As much as I love you, your idealistic optimism seriously needs a reality check. Sinners aren’t always redeemable or unworthy of divine punishment. Don’t you remember what happened to your stepmother?”

“Yes, I remember.” 

“What happened to her?”

“She danced a fatal waltz in burning shoes of iron,” Snow White sighed. 

“And why was she punished?”

“She was punished for the crime of attempting to have me murdered three times simply because she was told that I was prettier than her. If it wasn’t for the Huntsman and the Seven Dwarfs, I would have been a goner, and my stepmother would remain on the throne that belonged to my father.” 

“Didn’t the Huntsman kiss you after finding your comatose body in the glass coffin that the Dwarfs made for you?” Belle asked.

“Weren’t you also fourteen?” Cinderella pointed out.

“Yes, but the kiss wasn’t on the lips. It was on my forehead. You have to remember that the Huntsman was my uncle. Incest is considered a crime punishable by death.” 

“Amen to that,” Belle laughed. 

Cinderella and Belle quietly drank their mead. Queen Arianna walked toward their table, offering a platter of sandwiches to the three princesses. Snow White grabbed a sandwich, thanking Her Majesty for her hospitality before taking a bite. Sandwiches were her favorite food, but she refused to eat fruit, not even an apple. Apples were her worst enemy. 

“Is everybody having fun?” the King’s wife asked.

“We’re quite pleased to be part of this festival,” Cinderella replied.

“Thank you for the sandwiches, Your Majesty,” Belle said.

“You’re welcome, Your Highness.” 

Queen Arianna kissed Cinderella on the cheeks and hugged her. Cinderella blushed, flattered by the Queen’s kindness. 

“It seems Her Majesty fancies you,” Belle remarked. 

“As do most women who know me and my story,” Cinderella replied. 

“How’s Naveen, by the way?”

“My charming prince is back at the castle, where he belongs. He never accompanies me on my adventures. He’s always busy governing his kingdom and tending to the needs of his subjects. It’s like he doesn’t enjoy the idea of being seen with me in public.” 

“Maybe it’s because you have a foot fetish?” Snow White assumed. 

“Miss White, don’t be ridiculous. His Highness worships my feet. My feet are his kink. Every night, before bed, he tickles my toes and licks my soles.”

“Meanwhile, my boyfriend’s a monster,” Belle said. 

“How monstrous is he?” Snow White replied.

“He’s a gentleman in the library, a messy eater during meals, and a buffalo in the sheets.” 

“You married a buffalo?” Snow White asked. 

“Actually, he’s a werewolf. I don’t let him on the couch whenever he’s shedding.” 

“Smart girl,” Queen Arianna observed. 

“Woman,” Belle corrected Her Majesty.

“Sorry, Your Highness.” 

“What are your plans for the rest of this week?” Cinderella asked the King’s wife. 

“I will be busy attending to the poor and giving them everything that my husband denied them,” the Queen replied.

“Why do you enjoy helping the commoners so much?” Snow White inquired.

“The provincial peasants of this Puritanical kingdom are persecuted by the upper crust, since the King believes that the poor people should be thankful that God put them in their proper places within society. I think he’s being an idiot because it makes him feel great and powerful.” 

“Your husband sounds positively primeval,” Belle remarked. 

“The King is problematic, but he’s also my partner, and I love him despite his reputation as a dumbass. Men love to criticize their women, but women aren’t always allowed to turn the tables on their boyfriend and husbands. Double standards are rarely acknowledged in today’s society, which is why I’m striving to be better than my imprisoned husband, and I’m doing my best to accommodate those who are in need of my help. This kingdom doesn’t need a monarch. What it needs is a divine mother.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source: [The Snuggly Duckling](https://disney.fandom.com/wiki/Corona?file=7-2a_Snuggly_Duckling.jpg)


	6. Babylon the Great

_"So I'm a misfit? So I'm a flirt? I broke your heart? I made you hurt?"_

* * *

Gretel walked through the marketplace in the town square. Wearing her red hooded cloak and carrying a basket of baked goods, she made her way past the partying peasants who were taking part in the festivities of their annual feast. Being a peasant herself, Gretel thought of the Feast of Beggars as being a brilliant idea, even though she personally didn’t partake in the festival. Distracted by the atmosphere of the event, she approached a circular stage where a fountain once stood. The main attraction was none other than Gothel. Having discarded the persona of a Babylonian temptress, Maleficent’s daughter was tastelessly disguised as her own mental image of what she thought a Romani woman looked like. Once again, her skin was dyed with bronzer, but she was not dressed in the crimson-and-scarlet garments that she wore during her striptease at her local brothel. Instead, she wore a lavender gown with flowing sleeves, with a black corset and a circlet adorned with gold coins. She wiggled her hips while playing her tambourine, not bothering to consider the fact that she was indulging in cultural appropriation, nor did she care that there were peasants of color in the audience who were offended by her brownface. Gothel galloped and pranced around the stage, flashing her ankles or playing with her slit skirt as her way of teasing the men with her false beauty. Hansel’s sister thought that the dancing enchantress was out of her mind. Below the stage, an orchestra was playing a seductive melody, while Gothel danced in time to the music. The men cheered as Gothel reached inside her cleavage, taking out a string of handkerchiefs that were as red as blood. 

“What a disgusting display,” Gretel said. 

Gretel’s remark was ignored by the joyful clapping and screaming of the audience. Gothel grinned at her admirers. Their cheers fed her ego. Their compliments on her appearance warmed her heart. Though she wasn’t heartless in the literal sense, she did indeed lack a soul, for that particular part of her had been sold to the Dark One in exchange for her grimoire. 

“Do you love me?” Gothel asked her audience.

“We love you!” the audience shouted.

Maleficent’s daughter smiled at Gretel. Leaping from the stage, she ran toward the young sorceress and wrapped her arms around the woman’s waist, bestowing an unwanted kiss on her lips. Hansel’s sister pushed her nemesis away from her. 

“Why do you turn away from me?” Gothel demanded.

“Do not bewitch me, Whore of Babylon,” Gretel replied.

"A whore? Do you dare to insult me?"

“Yes, I dare. My grandmother warned me about you. You are a succubus in harlot’s clothing.” 

“Your grandmother speaks with a dishonest tongue. I am not a harlot. I am a free-spirited nomad who does as she pleases and fears no man. My nomadic soul burns with the fires of wrath in response to your remark."

"Your wrath amuses me."

"Begone, Miss Payne, or I shall summon the powers of Hell to smite you.” 

“How do you know my surname?” Gretel asked.

“That is not for you to know,” Gothel said. 

“Alright, then. Keep your secrets. Meanwhile, I am on my way to Uncle Monty’s Sweet Shoppe to deliver cupcakes and meat pies to him for his brunch.” 

Displeased that Hansel’s sister had interrupted her performance, Gothel chased the sorceress away from her stage. After Gretel had departed from the scene, Maleficent’s daughter smiled at the audience, took a bow, and cackled victoriously. The audience laughed along with her. 

“Would anybody like to see Madame Gardener perform the deadliest waltz in choreographic history?” Gothel asked.

The men raised their hands. The women kept their mouths shut and their answers to themselves. 

“Okay, men of Corona. Let the _danza della morte_ begin!”

Withdrawing an ebony dagger from her belt, Gothel raised her weapon to the sky and spun around on her heels, unleashing her inner madwoman that was locked up within the attic of her mind. Smiling wickedly, she grabbed one of the men from the audience. Her chosen victim happened to be the Huntsman. 

“Hello, Graham,” Gothel whispered. 

The Huntsman gazed into Gothel’s eyes. Part of him realized he was entranced by her beauty, while the other part recognized Gothel for what she truly was, and somehow he remembered meeting her before in another time, or perhaps, another life. 

“Regina?” Graham gasped.

Gothel winked slyly at her prey before plunging the blade of the dagger into his right eye. The audience did not scream or gasp. Since they were under Gothel’s spell, all they did was point and laugh as the poor man’s body fell to the ground, cracking his head like an eggshell upon hitting the yellow brick pavement. His demise satisfied Gothel. The witch clapped her hands as the music continued playing. The village was her stage. She was the actress in the story of her life. Without her mother to act as her personal director, she was free to dance. Normally, any Puritans who saw Gothel would run away and scream, but her audience was captivated by her glamour. In their eyes, she was not a deadly hag, but a radiant maiden who refused to bow down to the higher powers of the dominant society that ruled her homeland by fighting against the oppression of her people. The clergy was her enemy. She was a priest’s wet dream and a nun’s worst nightmare. 

“I see how you stare at me,” Gothel said to her audience. “You notice my cleavage. You are jealous of my makeup. You wish you were me. Sadly, none of you can live to be as beautiful as the great Madame Gardener. Tell me, my darlings, would you die for me? Would you sell your bodies to me? I would happily buy your consent in exchange for my pleasure.” 

Most of the men and women nodded. Gothel would have done anything to obtain a brothel of her own. She dreamed of ruling over an army of brainwashed concubines who would give their hearts and souls to their mistress after spending the night in her boudoir. Gothel was so caught up in the ecstasy of her fantasies that she nearly forgot that her daughter existed. Back home, she was the dominatrix of the household, but in the village she was a nightmare dressed as a daydream. Her audience adored her. For all they knew, she was a harlot who enjoyed dancing. As long as her cover wasn’t blown by those who wished to destroy her, she was safe. She was liberated. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source: [Marketplace](https://onceuponatime.fandom.com/wiki/Marketplaces/Gallery?file=117TheToyCart.png)


	7. A Reasonably Vengeful Request

_"I never killed anything, willingly. Even if I wanted to, how could I kill the Wicked Witch? If you, who are Great and Terrible, cannot kill her yourself, how do you expect me to do it?"_

* * *

“I wish I wasn’t such an asshole towards my wife,” King Frederic said to himself, drinking his seventh cup of green tea. “Arianna deserves a better man than the one she’s married to.” 

“And I deserve a better mother.” 

“Who said that?” the King asked. 

“Ask me to show myself, and I shall be revealed,” the voice replied. 

“Show yourself.” 

The King’s visitor removed her invisibility cloak. She was an eleven-year-old-witch with grey eyes and dark hair curled into ringlets. The witch wore a yellow-and-green dirndl, but lacked shoes, and she hated stockings. 

“Cassandra?” the Queen’s gasped.

“That’s my name. Don’t wear it out,” Cassandra replied. 

"It's hard to wear out a name once you've discovered it."

Maleficent’s granddaughter skipped toward His Majesty. The King ordered her not to come any closer. 

“Why not?” Cassandra asked. 

“You are the spawn of Gothel.” 

“I’m nothing like my mother. She’s the worst person ever. I’m just a victim in her story.” 

“Why should I believe you? You could easily be using your words as your own way of charming me, just as your whoring mother charms the men of my kingdom with her licentious dancing,” the King argued. 

“I’m doing nothing of the sort.”

“Are you being honest with me? Lying is punishable by death.” 

“With all due respect, I speak the truth. I hate my mother as much as you do. That’s why I came here to offer a request that I hope you will grant.”

“What do you desire?” King Frederic wondered. 

“I want you to kill my mother.” 

"Are you serious?"

"I'm honest," Cassandra claimed.

“Why should I do this for you?”

“Because I am a child, and you are an adult. I am a peasant. You are royalty. I am a witch. You are one of God’s men.”

“Okay, I get it,” the King replied.

"However, there's something that I really want."

“Name your price.”

“A free meal with your wife.” 

“Your wish is my command.” 

"Really? Honestly?"

"As honest as Jesus Himself," the Queen's husband declared. 

“How do I know that you’re going to keep your end of the bargain?” Cassandra asked.

“You don’t.” 

“Do not be so harsh to me, Your Majesty, for I am only a disadvantaged child in need of serious help. I would rather live in my grandmother's castle than spend the rest of my years as my mother's slave."

“How do I know that you aren’t a demon in the form of a child?”

Cassandra giggled wickedly. She smiled at His Majesty. 

“That’s the great puzzle, isn’t it?”

Smirking smugly at the King, Gothel’s daughter tossed the teacup out of His Majesty’s hand before walking out of the room and locking the door. She knew that the Queen’s husband couldn’t be trusted, which was why she was going to be the leader of the witch-hunting mob who would be the death of her mother. If she wanted to get the job done, she was faced with no choice but to do it herself, since she didn’t have any Fairy Godmothers in her life to guide her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source: [Abusive Love](https://disney.fandom.com/wiki/Cassandra_\(Tangled\)/Gallery?file=A_Tale_of_Two_Sisters_%285%29.jpg)


	8. Rivals

_"Are you a good witch or a bad witch?"_

* * *

“Mommy’s home!” Gothel announced, stomping into the living room of her cottage. 

The witch closed the door and looked around. Her daughter was nowhere to be seen. Frustrated by her maidservant’s absence, she stormed into the dining room. Sitting at the table were Lady Caine, Drizella, and Sugracha the Eternal, along with the Blind Witch. 

"Good evening, Gothel," Lady Caine said.

“Where’s Cassandra?” Maleficent’s daughter asked.

“She abandoned you,” Drizella replied. 

“Why did she disown me? She can’t leave the house without my permission. Also, why is Miss Braeburn sitting with you? I didn’t invite her into my home. She shouldn’t be here.”

“You shouldn’t be keeping children around as your slaves,” the Blind Witch snapped. 

_“Shots fired!”_ Zhan Tiri laughed. 

“Children need somebody to teach them how to properly behave. I’m simply enforcing such behavior.” 

“You’re doing a shitty job.”

_“Come on, Gothel. Show that old bitch who’s the boss around here.”_

Clutching her skirt, Gothel stomped toward her rival and glared at her. 

“My daughter shouldn’t be your business. She is my slave. I am her mistress.” 

“Why are you such a bitch?” the Blind Witch replied.

“I’m not a bitch. I’m a dominatrix. Don’t you know what dominatrices do?” 

“Yes, but what you’re doing is inappropriate, since it involves a minor."

"Age is just a number."

"That's no excuse! Do you think I don’t know of the punishments you inflict on Cassandra when she’s made a mistake? It’s disheartening.” 

“What mothers and daughters do behind closed doors is between them and nobody else."

"Dominating children does not a proper mother make."

Look at you. You’re blind and presumably infertile, so you shouldn’t be lecturing me on how to be a proper mother. I do what’s best for my child. You adopted a pair of gluttonous brats who deserve to eat you out of house and home. You’re the bitch. I’m the witch.” 

The Blind Witch stood up from her chair. 

“What did you just call me?” Gretel’s surrogate grandmother asked.

“Are you deaf as well as blind? I said you’re a bitch.”

Before the Blind Witch could get the chance to throw hands with her opponent, Gothel retreated to the safety of her basement. She sat down in front of the Magic Mirror as she did many times before. 

“Got any words of wisdom for me, Zhan Tiri?” Gothel asked.

_“Always choose your battles wisely.”_

“Anything else?”

_“Cassandra may have abandoned you, but you will always have your sisters. The four of you are stronger than the King and Queen combined. Your power is unlimited.”_

“As I’ve said countless times, Mother knows best.”

_“Is that your catchphrase?”_ Zhan Tiri asked.

“Yes, it is. Never gets old. Always effective.” 

_“Especially when Cassandra’s being a bratty little pestilence.”_

“Since when is Cassandra not bratty?” Gothel chortled to herself.

_“That’s why she has a dominant priestess as her mother. Spoiled brats need to be punished in order for them to repent and renounce their sins. Bear the riding crop and spank the child.”_

“Which one?” Gothel asked.

_“The one you feed and pamper the most.”_

“The Princess of Pampers?”

_“Your desire for Her Majesty’s future child greatly satisfies me."_

"How long must I wait until I claim her as my own?"

_"The diapered daughter of the divine Queen Arianna will be yours soon enough, and she will be the most beautiful child in the kingdom, though she’ll be gullible and naive, and vaguely childish. I hope she proves to be suitable for whatever you plan on doing with her. Children can be defiant, but they are useful, and their innocence can be exploited.”_

“Should Mommy's little flower be pampered and spoiled while her other daughter toils away as a maidservant?”

_“If that is what you desire, it shall come true.”_

“Zhan Tiri?”

_“Yes, Belladonna?”_

“How do I make sure that the Princess of Pampers and I will be together forever?”

_“Have your bedroom be your sanctuary.”_

“What if she’s older? How shall I shelter her from the outside world? I don’t want her to abandon me.”

_“When she comes of age, use your magic to build a tower around her, and act as her guardian. The tower shall be her nursery and her prison. Use her innocence against her. Scare her into submission using your wits and imagination. Keeping her babied, abused, and brainwashed will result in Mommy having a faithful slave in the form of a devoted daughter.”_

“What if my daughter refuses to give up her Pampers?”

_“If your daughter refuses to be potty-trained, then it is your duty as a mother to punish her by any means necessary. Make sure that the little nymphet knows her place.”_

“Nymphet? What are you attempting to imply?” Gothel asked, undressing herself as she smirked at her reflection. 

_“I’m implying that Her Majesty’s pampered princess shall be your little pet to feed, dress, teach, and dominate.”_

“A child worthy of being dominated is a child I want to sleep with.”

“Excuse me?” Maleficent asked.

Gothel nearly screamed at the unexpected reappearance of her mother. 

“Belladonna Amara Jezebel Gothel, I am seriously disappointed in you. Words alone do not have enough power to describe how disgusted I am by your behavior and your perverted desires.” 

“I’m just doing what you would have done,” Gothel replied.

“Are you daring to mistake your own mother for a licentious harlot who fantasizes about a baby princess, steals from the poor, and indulges in certain perversions of pleasure where the laws of consent are broken and virginity is forsaken?”

“Face the music. None of us are innocent.” 

“I may not be innocent, but you are repulsive. Witches like you deserve to be punished for your wrongdoings.”

“Why can’t we be punished together? Both of us are villains in our own right.”

“I’m a Dark Fairy whose virginity was stolen by Aurora’s father and whose infamous curse led to her being bastardized as the villain of her story. You are an unholy priestess who wears the mask of a mother but dances onstage as a wicked whore. Tell me, my heartless daughter, which one of us is the real villain in this room?

“One may smile and smile, and still be a villain.” 

“Your allusion to Shakespeare does not distract from the fact that you’re the worst witch who’s ever lived,” Maleficent argued. 

“Stop lying!”

“Dishonesty is beneath me. You sold your soul to the Dark One. You’ve abandoned your daughter. You truly are a degenerate creature.”

“That makes two of us.”

“No, Belladonna! You’re wrong about me.”

“Mother is never wrong. She knows best.”

“I’m nothing like you. I’m a fairy. You’re a witch.” 

“But aren’t we on the same level of evil?” Gothel asked.

“We certainly are not. I’m not a pedophile, or a rapist, or some misguided harridan who’s lost her mind. I’m sorry that your life twisted into something that I was unable to prevent. You’ve chosen to walk along the path of self-destructive hedonism and hatred. I pray that you’ll end up where you belong.”

“May you be proven wrong,” Gothel replied. 

“May you suffer for your misdeeds by being burned in Tartarus.” 

“Why don’t you do me a favor and go to Hadestown?”

“I’ve been there, thank you. I found it to be quite lovely.”

“Enough with this nonsense! Leave me alone to my reflection,” Gothel commanded. 

“As you wish.” 

The Dark Queen of Fairies disappeared in silence. With her mother gone, her daughter was alone. Gothel sat down in front of her Magic Mirror.

“I thought she’d never leave.”

_“Is your mother a thorn in your toe?”_

“The Mistress of Evil is the serpent in my rose garden filled with thorns. Do you know what snakes do? They bite, filling their prey with their venom. I simply wish to suck the venom out, but she always manages to sting me again and again, simply because I was hatched from her egg. I refuse to be my mother’s daughter. I am my own invention.”

_“Do you wish to kill her?”_

“I wish to show her which Mother knows best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source: [Lustful Crone](https://disney.fandom.com/wiki/Mother_Gothel/Gallery?file=Tangled-disneyscreencaps.com-138.jpg)


	9. March of the Witch Hunters

_"No one has ever destroyed her before, so I naturally thought she would make slaves of you, as she has of the rest. But take care; for she is wicked and fierce, and may not allow you to destroy her. Keep to the West, where the sun sets, and you cannot fail to find her."_

* * *

“Are we seriously doing this witch-hunting business again?” 

“By the order of Her Majesty, the Mistress of the Western Woods must be found and punished. Remember that she is a sexually unstable predator who loves her flesh and blood.” 

History had repeated itself once more in the kingdom where Puritanical injustice reigned. An army of bakers, farmers, millers, and butchers marched through the western woods. Aside from the traditional torches and pitchforks, the enraged peasants were armed with the weapons of their respective occupations. The leaders of the army were Uncle Monty, the Captain of the Guard, and Queen Arianna.

“Good fortune to you, my fellow Witch Hunters,” Queen Arianna said to her subjects. 

“Kill the witch!” the bakers cried out. 

“Punish her.”

“Hunt her, find her, and kill her.”

“The wicked shall not go unpunished.” 

The Witch Hunters headed into the garden to find the witch. As they walked, the peasants debated the best method of killing their ancient enemy. 

“Burning her at the stake should do the trick.”

"No, we should melt her. I hear that a witch's soul is so unclean that the tears of Christ burn her like acid."

"Don't mix Bible stories with fairy tales."

"But isn't water deadly to witches?"

"No, but pepper is."

“How about if we chop her into small pieces?”

“After she’s dismembered, may we please bake her into a pie?” 

“Cannibalism doesn’t sound right.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

“Let’s strip her down and boil her in oil.”

“Stripping her down sounds kinky. I love seeing the women I hate in the nude.”

The King’s wife glared at the farmer who dared to make such an obscenely sexist comment. The farmer apologized for his stupidity. 

“Which way to her cottage?” the Captain of the Guard asked.

“Follow the western road,” the Queen replied. 

“You heard what Her Majesty said. Stick to the yellow brick road. It will help guide us to our destination.” 

“What is Gothel guilty of?” a farmer asked.

“Haven’t you heard? Gothel is an exotic enchantress who darkly dabbles in sorcery, witchcraft, and the arts of Hell. She is bloodthirsty, distrustful, and greedy, just like all the other witches who’ve brought the Christian world to its knees throughout the history of our sacred homeland.” 

“Gentlemen, let’s keep moving!” Her Majesty ordered.

“Less talking, more walking,” the Captain of the Guard agreed. 

Intensifying their rage, the army of commoners followed their leaders to Gothel’s cottage, where they found Cassandra handing out cookies and candies to the members of her mother’s coven. 

“Halt! In the name of His Majesty, stop what you’re doing and confess your crimes to us, or suffer a fate worse than imprisonment.” 

“I think not,” Drizella laughed. 

“Do you dare to defy God’s men?” Uncle Monty asked.

“Defying God is what witches do best,” Sugracha replied. 

The King’s wife covered her ears as one of the guards screamed. Their bodies were slowly being taken for granite. In thirteen minutes, they were no longer flesh and bone, but men of stone. Drizella had cast a non-verbal spell over the Captain’s army. The peasants quickly fled in a cowardly fashion from their situation. They did not wish to risk being transformed into statues like their royal bodyguards. 

“When will you idiots learn that the power of witchcraft is greater than God and His men?” Lady Caine sighed. 

“Looks like history is forever damned to repeat itself,” Drizella remarked. 

The witches held each other’s hands as they looked upward towards the sky and chanted:

_“Le tue anime immortali sono dannate. Dannazione, diciamo! Per questa azione, soffrirai. Per questo atto, dovrai pagare!”_

As if things couldn’t transform from bad to worse already that evening, a storm of crows and ravens descended from the heavens, unleashing its avian fury upon the Witch Hunters who made the foolish mistake of choosing to hunt down the most powerful coven in the kingdom. The winged fiends swooped down on the peasants, scratching at their faces with their talons and using their beaks to peck their eyes out from their sockets. One of the birds managed to remove a baker’s eyeball, swallowing it whole before pecking its way into the side of his skull. The royal guards closed their eyes to prevent from gazing upon this scene of carnage that resulted from such a feminine group of demons. Gothel’s sisters simply laughed, thinking that their curse was a sick joke rather than unwanted punishment. Queen Arianna was astonished to discover that the birds did not attack her, since they refused to make eye contact with such a sacred woman. 

“Mess with the witches, and your ass gets cursed!” Sugracha chuckled. 

“Why not curse me?” Queen Arianna asked the witches.

“You are royalty, not a commoner,” Drizella explained. “Witches don’t normally use their craft to harm members of the upper class.”

“Tell that to the Evil Queen,” the King’s wife remarked. 

As the bodies of the peasants quickly turned into carrion for the crows and ravens to feed on, Queen Arianna raced into Gothel’s cottage with Cassandra and tightly locked the door, closing the windows as well so that the beastly birds of prey would not intrude. 

“Where’s your mother?” the Queen asked. 

“I have no idea, but I was supposed to kill her,” Cassandra replied. “Your husband promised me that you would offer to give me a free meal if she was destroyed for good. I didn’t trust him, which is why I led you on this wild Mother Goose chase myself. Mommy’s going to be infuriated when she finds out about what I tried to do to her.” 

“Why not stay at the palace with me for a fortnight?” Queen Arianna asked.

"Will you be my Mommy?"

"Of course, sweetie. I will treat you as if you were my own daughter."

“But I thought witches and Christians were enemies?” 

“Trust me, darling, I’m not a Christian."

"What are you?"

"I’m a divine mother who loves to help and nurture the lambs of the Good Shepherd, but I do not view myself as a member of the sacred flock.”

“So you’re the Virgin Mary?” 

“Not quite, darling. I am maternally graceful, but far from virginal. Although, I do strongly wish to become a mother of a sacred baby."

"Do you love babies?"

"I adore them." 

Cassandra laughed. She knew of virginity and its merits, due to attempts at sexual education thanks to her mother's skewed worldview, but as a result suffered from a strong fear of men. Her heart was somewhat gladdened by the fact that the Queen's husband remained imprisoned in the dungeon. Taking Her Majesty’s hand, Cassandra smiled as she walked out the back door of the cottage and headed toward the palace with the King’s wife as her newest companion. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source: [Drizella Tremaine](https://onceuponatime.fandom.com/wiki/Drizella/Gallery?file=710DrizellaUnhooded.png)


	10. Cannibal vs. Predator

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I hope that ya'll are aware that Gothel is not meant to be some kind of anti-heroine (that's Maleficent's role). She is not meant to be someone who should be trusted, adored, or celebrated. She is a monster. Think of her as Professor Humbert meets Bellatrix mixed with Claude Frollo.**

_"Do you smell that? Burnt sugar. Cinnamon cloves. And ginger?"_

* * *

Having grown exhausted from searching for her disobedient daughter, Gothel decided to pay an unexpected and unwanted visit to one of her oldest enemies. She followed the northern road to the gingerbread cottage. The Blind Witch caught sight of her enemy. Turning around, she cast her broomstick aside and smirked at Maleficent’s daughter.

“Have you come to stay for the night at _il cottage ricoperto di caramelle della nonna_ or do you wish to fight with her?” Gretel’s surrogate grandmother asked.

Gothel snarled at her nemesis. 

“ _Fammi un favore e vai in Tartaro!_ ”

“Tartarus doesn’t suit me, but I hope it accommodates you,” the Blind Witch laughed. “All of Corona deserves to know about your desires and perverted urges. Even Maleficent hates you.” 

“My mother doesn’t know anything about me,” Gothel insisted. 

"Maleficent knows everything about you."

"Prove it."

_“Sei disgustoso. Sei sporco. Sei un pedofilo degenerato, uno stupratore e un succube._ ”

“Your insults don’t flatter me."

"They're not insults. They're honesty."

"How can honesty be so brutal? I thought witches were supposed to support and love each other? You certainly don’t admire me.” 

“Predators don’t deserve admiration. They deserve death and damnation. Why didn’t your mother kill you on the evening of your _tredicesimo compleanno_ instead of disowning you? The peasants of Corona would be spared from all of the chaos you’ve caused in the name of hedonistic debauchery.” 

“My mother chose to spare me because she was benevolent and kind. As for you, Granny, you won’t be alive to tell the tale of my so-called crimes against humanity.” 

The Blind Witch screamed as she was lifted seven feet above the ground. Invisible hands grasped her by the neck and squeezed the inside of her throat to eternally silence her. If her pancreatic cancer hadn’t killed her yet, then the lethal discipline of Zhan Tiri would. 

_“Nobody insults my mistress. Not you. Not His Majesty. Nobody!”_

“Put me down,” the Blind Witch croaked.

_“Not until you’ve learned your lesson.”_

“Put her down!” Gothel commanded.

The baker fell to the ground. For the first time in her life, Zhan Tiri sprang out of Gothel’s head and manifested in the form of an elderly sorceress. Though she was old, her voice did not match up with her age, since she spoke with the voice of a young English girl rather than a wizened crone. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Gothel asked Zhan Tiri.

"I'm saving your life."

“I thought we weren’t going to telepathically strangle our enemies?"

“But I thought you wanted me to kill her?” Zhan Tiri argued.

“No, I didn’t. Now be a good demon and get back inside my head where you belong.” 

“As you wish.”

Assuming the form of a lavender vapor, Zhan Tiri was inhaled through Gothel’s nostrils and traveled upward into her skull, where she rested within the darker areas of the witch’s brain. 

“What in Hades was that?” the Blind Witch asked.

“Don’t mind Zhan Tiri,” Gothel replied. 

“Who?”

“Zhan Tiri is the demonic sorceress who exists within my head."

"Sounds like somebody's out of control."

"You're out of control. She’s my conscience.” 

“One wonders why you have such a murderous conscience as your guide.”

“Sometimes, Miss Braeburn, it’s best to keep your genies inside their lamps and your crickets in their cages. When they’re let loose, the unexpected happens. Anyway, I thank you for your good council. Good night!” 

“Burn in Tartarus.”

“Good night!” 

“May your life be cursed with misery.”

“Good night!”

“Could you stop saying that?” 

“Could you stop being annoying?”

“Why should I? Nobody except Zhan Tiri can tell me what to do. She’s my best buddy.” 

“In that case, may your best buddy be your undoing. May she be the cause of your untimely demise. Time shall be your doomsday clock and fate shall be your judge.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source: [Miss Braeburn](https://onceuponatime.fandom.com/wiki/Blind_Witch_\(The_Eighth_Witch\)/Gallery?file=717Witch.png)


	11. Egomania

_"You really are the fairest of them all!"_

* * *

Heading downstairs into the basement of her cottage, Gothel was greeted by her companions. Lady Caine, Drizella, and Sugracha sat in a circle, drinking coffee from teacups and passing around plates of fried chicken to them.

“What are you doing?” Gothel asked. 

“Having coffee and chicken,” Drizella replied. 

“Get out of my basement! Take your food and drink upstairs to the dining room where it belongs. Go on, sisters! Do as Mother says.”

The Nightshade Sisters scurried upstairs, taking their teacups and their plates with them. Gothel walked toward her Magic Mirror and sat down to confront her reflection. She screamed in agonized frustration at the loss of her maidservant, the realization that her mother despised her, and the fact that her lipstick was smudged. 

_“You may be old and wrinkled, but you’re still beautiful.”_

“Beautiful?” 

_“Okay, you’re the fairest. Always have been. Always will be.”_

“That’s better.”

Gothel found comfort being known as the fairest in the Tri-Kingdom Area. She was more beautiful than her mother. Her mother, however, agreed to disagree. 

“If you hated me so much, Mom, then why did you bring me into this world?” 

Maleficent appeared on the other side of the mirror. Chuckling darkly, she answered her daughter’s question. 

“I brought you into this world to see you grow and to test your sense of morality. Sadly, despite my efforts, you continue to prove yourself to me that you are the worst witch ever. You lie, cheat, murder, rape, steal, brainwash, and gaslight your way through life in order for your powers to increase. Your vanity disgusts me as much as your insatiable lust does.” 

_“She speaks the truth.”_

“I know!” Gothel growled.

_“Maleficent never lies, unlike you.”_

“Shut up!”

“Who are you talking to?” Maleficent asked. 

“None of your business.” 

“Your downward spiral into untamed madness is my business.”

“Know what? Fine! Do you want to know who I’m talking to? I’m talking to my best buddy who lives inside my head. Her name is Zhan Tiri. I am a warrior of witchcraft. She’s an ancient God who’s also a sorceress and my conscience. She’s my better half. She’s better than you. Want to know why? Because she would never lie about me.” 

“You need therapy.”

“I don’t need therapy! I need a child.”

“Your obsession with Her Majesty’s baby is dangerous and inappropriate. Renounce these perverted desires. Resist temptation.”

“Go away.”

“Your perversions of pleasure end now.”

“Leave me alone.”

“I never asked to have a predator as a daughter.”

_“Ouch!”_

“Mother, we’ve already talked about this. I’m not predatory. I’m alternatively sexual. Stop mislabeling me.” 

“I’m just telling the truth.”

“No, you’re not! You’re lying again. I hate liars. They’re the worst of the worst. Liars deserve to be lynched. Dishonesty is a deadly sin. I hate people who refuse to be honest.” 

“Then why not go hang yourself?” Maleficent asked. 

The witch growled. Her growling erupted into a shrill, deafening screech that snuffed out the candles within the basement. Whether it was her fury or that of Zhan Tiri, Maleficent couldn’t tell, for she was deeply disturbed to witness her daughter transforming into the humanoid counterpart of a raven. Her wicked grin was stretched wide, her eyes wide open and staring directly at her mother. Gothel’s ghastly grin was so discomforting that Maleficent had no choice but to vanish from within the Magic Mirror. Her daughter cackled victoriously. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source: [Mother Knows Best](https://onceuponatime.fandom.com/wiki/Gothel/Gallery?file=711MotherKnowsBest.png)


	12. The Luckless and the Blessed

_ "God help the outcasts, hungry from birth. Show them the mercy they won't find on Earth. Please help my people, the poor and downtrod. I thought we all were children of God." _

* * *

“Are you enjoying your food and your new clothes, my dear child?” Queen Arianna asked, fancily fanning herself as she watched Cassandra wolf down her evening meal.

“I love them,” Cassandra replied.

The King’s wife was alarmed at the sight of Gothel’s daughter greedily breaking apart pieces of her boneless buffalo wings and shoving them into her mouth, chewing noisily. 

“Slow down, sweetie. I don’t want you to choke. Make sure to chew with your mouth closed.”

“Sorry, Mommy,” Cassandra apologized.

“It’s okay, just take it easy. I’m glad that you love your food.” 

“When I worked for my mother as her maidservant, I had to work hard in order to earn meals and affection. Mom always said that love and food weren’t given for free.” 

“Your mother is wrong,” the King’s wife argued.

“But she always told me that she’s never wrong.” 

“Your mother is seriously troubled. I do hope all will be well.” 

“I hope she’s punished for her crimes.”

Queen Arianna nodded. Placing her fan on the table, she grabbed one of the buffalo wings from Cassandra’s plate and ate it. The wings weren’t too spicy or too savory. They were just right. 

“This kingdom is a Godless one, and yet God’s men think they’re improving it by murdering the oppressed,” Cassandra sighed. 

“May God be at our table tonight.” 

“I hope He is watching over me. His love is greater than my mother’s abuse.”

“Maybe He will use His power to punish Gothel after He restores the kingdom to its senses. The peasants and the clergy are in need of divine guidance in order to help them see the error of their mistakes. The Good Shepherd always knows when to lend a helping hand to those in need of His services.” 

“Are you one of His disciples?” Cassandra wondered.

“I’m not a disciple nor a believer. I would rather rely on myself than for God to fix problems for me.” 

“I pray that God grants your desire for a baby.”

“Thank you, Cassandra. That’s very kind of you.” 

“What does your baby look like?”

“I imagine her with emerald eyes, golden hair, and a beautiful smile that warms my heart whenever I’m feeling down in the dumps. She’s the Princess of Pampers. I’ve always dreamed of having a daughter to keep in diapers. I enjoyed wearing them myself as a kid.”

“So did I, but Mom thinks I’m bad for doing so. She used to say that diapers were sinful and that toilets were a blessing.” 

“Diapers are for anybody who needs them.”

“Is that true?” Cassandra asked.

“I never lie,” the Queen confirmed. 

“How do you feel about my Mom?”

“I have many words to describe your mother.” 

Cassandra growled bitterly at the memories of her mother’s punishments for her non-existence misbehavior and her rewards for her domestic services. Some days, she was fed. Other days, she was spanked or whipped, despite only being a child. 

“I’m sure you do.” 

After she had finished her dinner, Cassandra sat in her temporary caregiver’s lap and cuddled with her. She hoped that Gothel would be too busy with her plans to track her down. The Queen was more loving and nurturing than her real mother, whose behavior made it alarmingly clear that she was the opposite of parental. She knew that her friendship with Her Majesty would only last for two weeks. Part of her wanted to stay by the Queen’s side. She wanted to be adopted by the King’s wife and become a member of the royal family. Sadly, such a dream would not come true for a child such as the daughter of Gothel, since she knew that her mother’s clutches were inescapable. She was Snow White. Her mother was the dreaded Queen. May the Gods of the heavens and the universe be damned if she didn’t escape her situation by running away to live in the woods where she wouldn't be bossed around or enslaved. She knew that the virtues of freedom and independence were better than mindless obedience. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source: [The King's Wife](https://disney.fandom.com/wiki/Queen_Arianna/Gallery?file=Where%27s_the_Birthday_Girl.jpg)


	13. Unhinged

_ “It’s true what you heard. I am a freak. I’m disturbed.” _

* * *

Madness, like love, came in many forms. Gothel was a madwoman herself. Her inner demons manifested as an elderly enchantress who dwelled inside her head mixed with an unhealthy and decidedly unwholesome attraction to a golden-haired princess who was yet to be born from her mother’s womb. The witch closed her eyes. Within her mind, she caught a glimpse of the newborn child in her crib, wiggling around and sucking on her fingers. Freshly clothed and diapered, the Princess of Pampers appeared to be as adorable as she was innocent and naive. The perfect baby doll for a predatory dominatrix.

_ “How strong is your hunger for this sacred child?” _

“Stronger than a hundred men.”

_ “She’s going to be your plaything. I hope you’re satisfied.” _

“My little nymphet.” 

Though she did not know the child’s name, her innocence was the spark that ignited the fire which set the witch’s ovaries aflame with deadly desire. Salivating at the thought of kidnapping the Queen’s daughter, Gothel undressed herself and sat down on her throne in the left corner of the basement, fondling herself. Pleasuring her body was one of the many ways she received gratification to relieve herself of her troubles and her tension. Disciplining her maidservant was another means to satisfy her cravings. Though she had a conscience, her guide was a product of madness rather than morality. Zhan Tiri was twice as wicked as her mistress. Both witches were heartless demons without souls or redeeming traits to make them worthy of being saved. 

“I want to feel what she feels, to know what she knows, and to see what she sees.” 

_ “Did you see the princess again?” _

“I saw her.”

“What did she look like?”

“She was heavenly.”

_ “Was she an angel?” _

“She was the angel to my Mother Superior.” 

_ “But you’re not a nun, are you?” _

“I am a priestess, and although nuns and priests aren’t the same thing, they’re woven from the same holy cloth.” 

_ “Honest words from the mouth of a succubus.” _

“Like the demons who came before me, I am quite unholy, and I take great pride in knowing that I am an abomination in the eyes of God. What gives the Good Shepherd the right to think that He is more powerful than I am? I would smite His ass if he dared to cross me.”

_ “Would you smite His Majesty’s ass?” _

“Only if I manage to get my hands on his little girl.”

_ “Will you claim her once she’s born?”  _

“The kidnapping of a newborn child is a deed that’s been overdone. I shall wait until she is seven months old.”

_ “If you’re going to kidnap the princess, do it subtly.”  _

“How am I to be subtle?”

_ “Don’t get yourself arrested by the authorities.”  _

“But how am I to do such a deed?” 

_ “Take on a blasphemous form to mock Her Majesty’s faith.”  _

“So you want me to disguise myself as a member of God’s household but in a raunchy manner?” 

“Not sexy, Belladonna. Scary. Demonic. Satanic, if you will.” 

Gothel pondered on how to dress in the guise of a saintly woman while putting an unsavory twist on her costume. She desperately wanted to have a seductive look. However, as Zhan Tiri sternly reminded her, actual nuns dressed modestly. Maleficent’s daughter thought of how to present herself as a truly terrifying entity. She remembered consulting books on demonology. In these books, she had read Biblical accounts of a monstrous creature named Valak whose preferred form was a nun. Valak was known as the Defiler, the Profane, and the Marquis of Snakes. She always recalled the Evil Queen’s infamous stunt where she used her powers to transform into a peddler and trick her stepdaughter into tasting her forbidden fruit. 

_ “What are you thinking about?” _

“I’ve got it!” 

_ “Got what?” _

“I will sneak into the castle in the form of a seemingly innocent and childless priestess who’s also a peddler of Granny Smith apples. Since those specific apples are green, which is the color of envy, the clergy will have no choice but to avoid me since they’ll believe that I am one of Satan’s concubines. His Majesty always said that the Devil’s servants wear many masks. If I am to obtain the Queen’s baby, then one of God’s men must fall in order for their enemies to rise.” 

_ “Don’t forget to pack a diaper bag for your little princess.” _

“Trust me, when I come to kidnap the pampered babe, I will make sure to be prepared. I shall reign as the Queen of Hell in the end. No priest or King stands a chance against me. They are mortal. I am unlimited.” 

_ “We are unlimited.”  _

“Yes, my love. We are. We are the greatest team that Corona has ever seen.”

_ “Do you love me?” _

“I love you as much as I love myself.”

_ “I love you more.” _

“I love you most.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source: [Perverted Priestess](https://onceuponatime.fandom.com/wiki/Gothel/Gallery?file=719HappyEloise.png)


	14. Divine Mother

_ "Your wish will soon be fulfilled, and you will bring a daughter into the world." _

* * *

Her Majesty couldn’t sleep. Her desire for a child kept her awake that night. To calm her nerves, one of her maids brought to her a mug of hot chocolate and a bowl of chocolate cookies.

“What ails you?” the Queen’s maid asked.

“My thoughts.”

“What sort of thoughts?” 

“Thoughts of an indescribable nature.”

“Describe them to me.”

The King’s wife decided to spill the beans.

“Something’s not right. Something’s broken, something’s wrong. It’s all going to go wrong.”

“What’s going to go wrong, Your Majesty?”

“Do you remember when I told my husband about my wish to have a baby girl?” Queen Arianna asked.

“I remember. Are you afraid of dying in childbirth?”

“No, that’s not it. Death doesn’t scare me. It’s a part of life, just the same as birth is."

"Then what's the matter?"  


"I’m just concerned that my daughter won’t be there to comfort me when I need her the most.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I fear as if Gothel’s prophecy will come true. What if my little princess ends up kidnapped by that madwoman? I do not wish to live in a world that my daughter is absent from.” 

“Your baby girl won’t be kidnapped.”

“How do you know? Do you have children of your own?”

“Sadly, no, but they are God’s greatest gifts to the world."

"Children are indeed a blessing."

"I hope that your daughter is safe and secure.” 

“Do you have any suggestions on how to protect her?”

“Have the Captain act as her bodyguard in the nursery. He has a soft spot for youngsters.”

“Indeed he does,” the Queen agreed.

Queen Arianna took the mug and cookies, placing them on the bedside table. She sat down on the bed, doing her best to remain calm despite being overwhelmed by her maternal paranoia. 

“I hope so, and thanks for the snack.” 

“Anything for Her Majesty.” 

The maid exited the room. The King’s wife grabbed the bowl and started to eat the cookies, drinking her chocolate to wash them down. Hot chocolate and cookies were one of her favorite midnight snacks. Ever since she was a girl, baked goods comforted her in the same way that her husband’s embraces and kisses did. They were medicine for her mind and soul. While taking time to enjoy her food and her beverage, Queen Arianna thought of the activities she would spend with her daughter by her side. Aside from changing her diapers, bottle-feeding her, and snuggling her, she dreamed of teaching how to properly fight with a sword, educating her on the laws of consent, and praying with her during moments when it seemed all hope was lost. Though she was an atheist, she often dressed in the style of the Virgin Mary, since she was divine and acted as a mother to her people. Queen Arianna was embraced by her subjects in the same way that the Mother of Christ was adored by the Christians in the Land Without Magic. She was the savior of outcasts. If God’s men refused to help those who were victims of injustice, then a woman would have to deliver them from evil. 

If only there was someone to deliver her baby from the ultimate demon to end all demons. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image source: [Maternal and Afraid](https://disney.fandom.com/wiki/Queen_Arianna/Gallery?file=Secret_of_the_Sun_Drop_22.jpg)


End file.
